Midnight Buzz

2 Iced Caramel Mocha

"Do you enjoy doing that? Just... Following a mental schedule, every single morning you come in here?"

Arthur looked up in subtle shock, trying to process the sound of the foreign and unfamiliar voice. He looked up from his laptop screen, and saw the man that always fixed his coffee cleaning a counter and peering over at him.

He paused, unsure if he heard the man correctly, and slowly turned his head to look around the room and make sure there wasn't any other person in the area that he could be talking to.

Arthur heard a laugh come from the barista, looking over with lifted eyebrows and seeing a pleasant smile on the other man. He was about to speak, but was cut off by another social prod.

"There isn't anybody else for me to talk to. I thought you would have recognized that.. You're usually the only other person here till 7:30."

Arthur listened, watching as the slim man turned his back towards him and kept cleaning his work station. About to speak at the introduction of a brief silence; he was cut off, by yet another rambling cue from his - apparently - very social conversation partner.

"I mean, you come in maybe five minutes once we open, every single day. I barely have on my apron by the time you order - and it's always the same as usual. It's not that hard to remember a tall, iced caramel mocha, with extra syrup for the brooding, anti-social, journalism major that sits away from the sunlight each morning."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, finding it being far too early to be so confused and boggled by a coffee maker. He didn't even know this guy for anything else other than his name; how was Francis able to learn so much about him over the course of a few weeks, with no communication?

His tone wasn't teasing or harsh, either. If anything, the fond and gentle conversation directed his way wasn't as bothersome as he expected. The voice from a few feet away worked as a kind "wake up" from his dazed state of waiting till the caffeine kicked into his system.

Arthur watched, noting how the barista was animated. He spoke with his hands when he wasn't using a rag to polish and clean the tiled tops of the counters, and had his shaggy shoulder length hair pulled into a ponytail at the bottom of his skull.

"How do you know I'm in journalism?"

Arthur bored his eyes into the figure in front of him, analyzing the back of his head and torso while he moved. Quickly, he grew suspicious; which was only increased by hearing a small laugh erupt from Francis.

"Oh, so he speaks. That's good to hear."

Francis turned back around, flashing Arthur a rather happy smile. He walked back behind the counter and tucked the rag away, getting his water bottle and drinking out of it as he sat on a bar stool. The small silence was used for him to collect his thoughts, speaking just in time to prevent an awkward drawl.

"You left a napkin on the table once, and it had an email written on it. Trust me when I say I'm not the nosy type, but I went to throw it away when I saw you wouldn't be coming back. I noticed it was the email to one of the professors on campus, that does a lot of lectures on the subject. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. Plus, the major seems to suit you."

Arthur paused, a bit impressed to hear that the remark wasn't just a half-assed segway to talk, and that Francis actually observed that information about him. He stared at him for a few moments, giving into a small nod and taking a sip from his cold beverage.

"You're right... I thought I tucked that napkin in my pocket, and that I threw it away somewhere else."

Francis chuckled, crossing his left leg over his right knee and shaking his head with an air of contentment.